


Echo

by King_Vyse



Category: Destiny (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-22
Updated: 2014-11-12
Packaged: 2018-02-18 08:43:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2342240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/King_Vyse/pseuds/King_Vyse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The new game Destiny was finally coming out exclusively for the Virtual Reality Head Mount Device (VRHMD) known as the Rift Visor. With the Rift Visor, players are able to enter the world of the video game and experience it all first hand!<br/>Not exactly a crossover but does have a few aspects of Sword Art Online.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

It was predicted to be the new best-selling game of the year; everyone and their grandmothers were planning to buy it. The fact that it was coming out exclusively on the new HMD console the _Rift Visor_ (or _RiVi_ for short) practically guaranteed it a system seller. The legendary creators of the Oculus Rift would probably be swimming in money by the end of the week.

The _RiVi_ was a new head mount introduced by the Oculus VR company a while back that provided a new definition to the term "virtual reality." Instead of the company trying to make the virtual reality world _feel_ real to the player, they decided to make the world real itself by transporting the player there. In a sleep-like state, the _RiVi_ can transfer the player's mind to worlds of dragons and knights, or even lands of fluffy flying unicorns. Despite not having many games available for the _RiVi_ , the console was almost omnipresent in every house around the world.

She tore off the plastic film that protected the large octagonal-shaped box before her. Carefully, she opened the hinged lid of the box and let out content sigh. They were both embedded into bumpy dark grey foam and she forced back a squeal. In the bottom part of the box sat her new, Crystal White Edition _Rift Visor_. Excitement jolted through her fingertips as she gingerly picked up the _Visor_ from its resting place. She marveled its sleek beauty and candy white paint over the beaked eyepiece. A narrow grey line shot across the very middle of it from ear to ear, and it would glow a bright neon blue once turned on, as depicted on the box art. She cautiously fitted the _RiVi_ to her head, adjusting the head straps and made sure the earpieces fully covered her hears. She pushed up the eyepiece above her head and reached for the plastic video game case that was resting within the box lid. On the cover, three figures stood valiantly with their backs towards the camera, the closest figure with their ragged cloak flowing in the gentle wind. In thin, spaced out letters, the title was splayed over the cloak figure's back. _Destiny_ , it read.

She had been saving her money for weeks to get the game in her hands, and when she found out it was exclusive on a console she didn't own yet, she forced herself to wait a while longer until she could afford the bundle. She wanted to pay for the whole thing completely by herself, but being a new and unemployed college student, she ended up having her mother spot her a few bucks. Of course, she felt guilty, but she didn't really have a choice considering she had no source of income. It also didn't help that she was practically peer pressured by her best friend to buy it, since he constantly complained to her about having no one to play with.

Five days had passed, and she was already nearing the so-called legendary level twenty. She couldn't count how many times she was grateful her best friend was a level twenty two Defender Titan. She died constantly due to her low armor stats as a hunter, thus she was forced to always hide behind cover after taking a measly one shot from a sniper rifle. It frustrated her, seeing as how she seemed to always be hiding while her partner in crime went off and punched the faces off of countless Fallen. She felt useless most times, but the feeling was always overridden by the ridiculous amounts of fun she was having.

Pain never existed in the game; whenever she was blasted in the face by a plasma rocket, her shouts were always that of surprise. When she _did_ die, she would be reduced to a small floating blue orb with a spiked shell—a Ghost, they were called—and her voice would emanate straight from the Ghost's filtered speakers. In a Limbo like stasis, she would wait patiently as her partner would make his way over to her and drop a Ward of Dawn shield before reviving her. And as always, she would give him a whimsical "thank you," which in turn was replied with an irate "STAY IN THE GODDAMN BUBBLE" (to which she would respond grumpily "fuck you and your stupid bubble" before taking a seat on the floor).

She enjoyed spending time headshotting Cabal soldiers from afar as her best friend constantly and willingly ran into the fray. She enjoyed the countless hours spent on hard level Raids and the various new inside jokes she shared with him. It was moments like these that made her forget all the stupid and trivial things in her life. She would never get tired of these moments with him, and sometimes even, she wished it would never end.


	2. First Strike

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of the lock down.

She stretched her arms up into the air and let out a heavy sigh of relief. Their last Strike had lasted at least an hour and a half, and she was fairly close to just rage quitting after the third team death. It didn't help that she needed to constantly be revived.

Materializing her personal Ghost, they flew into orbit after waving goodbye to their temporary teammate. He was a fairly good Warlock who, thankfully, knew what they were doing. She was glad they didn't have to deal with a camping rock who constantly spawned Hive Wizards.

"Tower?" She said simply.

"Tower." She kicked her feet up and linked her fingers behind her head.

"Alright Ghost, let's head back. I need a good rest after that."

"Preparing for Jump back to the Tower," Ghost stated. She let out a yawn and rolled her neck as the ship jolted across the galaxy back to The Last City. They cruised through space at an alarming speed, dots of stars just becoming various streaks of light.

"Ghost, Inventory," she ordered as she sat up in her seat slowly. A small, curved opaque screen formed in front of her face, her avatar standing with confidence in the middle and her weapons and armor indicated at the sides. She tapped the buttons for her Primary Weapons and Leg Armor and dismantled them. She'd already had Rare armor on and had no use for pointless Common armor. She leaned far back into her chair.

"Sven are you still alive?" She stared up at the ceiling as she awaited his response. A crackled boyish voice spoke through the speakers of her Ghost.

"Yeah I'm still here. I'm surprised we haven't disconnected from each other yet," he replied. She jumped in her seat hastily.

"Hey! Don't say that! Knock on wood right now! Knock on wood!" She could feel the wide smile spreading across her face.

"My whole ship is made of metal!"

"Fucking hell Sven if we disconnect, I swear it's your fault," she joked. Her best friend let out a scoff from his side.

"Wow. WOW. Rude!" Her loud laughter filled the cockpit and was probably choppy on his end. She took in a few breaths before continuing.

"Ah, you want to do one more Strike? Or should we hang it up for the night?" she asked. He asked her if she knew what time is was out of game, to which she replied it was nearing three thirty in the morning. She only had two classes the next day, so she was up for at least on more Strike before letting her brain rest for the night. Unlike Sven, who was down to play the whole night. Of course, out of game your body would technically be sleeping, which is why most players would be on in the dead of night, but playing for a long time would sometimes leave her with an annoying headache in the morning.

"I'm good for another Strike. Tower first though. I've got a few engrams I want to decode," Sven mentioned.

"Ooh, sounds like you've got some purple ones on you."

"Nah, just blue ones. Most of them are weapons I probably already have," he shrugged. She pouted in her seat.

"You and your stupid vault of weapons…" she mumbled. Her Ghost spoke up from her jealous musings.

"Nearing The Last City, Tower," it spoke. Their ships flew into the Tower's docking bay before they materialized onto the balcony. Their ships were dismissed by Ghost as they stepped up into the Tower Plaza. As Sven pulled off to visit Cryptarch, she strolled through the plaza with her Ghost trailing behind.

"Seems like you have a few bounty leads," Ghost mentioned. It marked the Mail Kiosk with a green icon and she let out a groan. "It won't go away unless you dismiss them yourself." She waved a hand in front of its face.

"Yeah yeah, I know," she grumbled. "Come on, let's go deal with it before we leave." She approached the kiosk with an apparent scowl even though the NPC working the kiosk greeted her with the general "welcome, Hunter." She opened her inbox and took all of the mail out. She gave a noncommittal wave goodbye to the NPC as she sifted through her pointless mail. One envelope was colored a deep maroon color, and it caught her attention before she deleted them all. She questioned it, studied it, looked for some kind of logo or mark to indicate who it was from.

"Hey, Ghost?" It flew around to the ride side of her face and looked down at the worn maroon envelope in her hands. "Is this some new Crucible mission? It's…kind of red I guess?" Ghost let out a beam of light from its eye and circled around the envelope in her hand.

"No…this type of parcel isn't anywhere in the database," Ghost spoke with rather realistic confusion. "That's strange…"

"It's probably some stupid Guardian who's already found a way to hack into the game or something," she sighed. "Let's open it up." She tore open the envelope and let a screen materialize in front of her face. With an unimpressed huff, she watched the letters form on the curved screen in front of her.

"Hey, I'm ready. Let's Orbit," Sven popped up beside her with his Ghost. He noticed the screen with his glowing red Exo eyes and crept closer. "What's that? You took up a bounty?"

"No, I think some idiot sent me mail in the game. It's probably some stupid spam," she responded irritatingly. Confusion wasn't shown on his robot face, but it was expressed through his voice.

"What? I didn't know players can send mail in-game."

"Me either. Stupid people are already hacking into the servers or something." The font loaded onto the screen, pixilated and sometimes with different sizes. The letters twitched on screen, moving to different places and merging with other words. Her white brows furrowed on her pale blue skin as the letter took its time loading.

"'Hello Guardian,'" she began reading aloud.

* * *

_Hello Guardian, and welcome to_ Destiny _._

_My name will be withheld at the moment, unfortunately. However, you may know me by the name of Virus._

_Have you been enjoying yourself so far? I sincerely hope so. Because it has come to my attention that some people aren't enjoying the game as much as they expected to be. Repetition and frustrating dungeons seem to take a toll on player's reviews, and most are thoroughly displeased. This disheartens me, because I genuinely believe that_ Destiny _has the potential redefine the purpose and meaning of video games._

 _Not only can video games provide a riveting experience of drama and heart pounding action, they can deliver and strike true forms of horror and dread over people. And with the technology to experience all of this first hand, it's as if video games have surpassed the virtual plane and have crossed over to ours. But not just yet. Not exactly just yet. You see, video games lack the one sense of reality that boldly draws the line between true reality and virtual. Death. We do not fear death here, we wait for it to pass over us before we are able to seize another chance. And that, I believe, is something that will provide a true experience to the Guardians of_ Destiny _._

 _Today, a new patch was introduced to the game, known as_ Virulent _. Fitting, isn't it? This patch fixes a few flaws in the base game and adds in an innovative new feature. From now on, all Guardians currently in-game and those who log on will be locked in. From now on, the feeling of pain will exist in-game, just as reality. Now, all Non-Playable Characters have achieved a form of sentience, appropriate to their kind and programming. Now, all deaths have become permanent. With this, video games have officially crossed the plane of virtual and into the plane of reality. With this,_ Destiny _has surpassed all of those who came before it._

_Make every shot count._

_Virus_

* * *

They stared at the letter opened on the screen before them. Her Ghost circled around the screen with its scanner.

"It doesn't seem like there's any point of origin from where this message came from," it stated.

"Has anyone else gotten this thing?" Sven asked dubiously. Her Ghost spoke up again.

"Nothing is said about it in the records. There's also no mention of the _Virulent_ Patch within the system," it added. Sven waved a dismissive hand.

"Psh. Then it's probably just some stupid joke meant to scare us. You were probably the only one who got it," he pointed at her. She bit her lip, and eyed her friend with her bright yellow-green eyes. "It's nothing," he reassured her. "Ghost, you can go ahead and get rid of it." Her Ghost turned to her as if asking for permission. After a moment's silence, she finally spoke.

"Yeah, go ahead," she allowed. And just like that, the letter was gone from existence. She felt a deep pit open up in her stomach as the screen phased out.

"Now come on, let's get going," Sven jerked a thumb over at an Exo Warlock dancing a tad too close to a group of Guardians shopping. "I don't want level 3 BonerLord887 over there to give us a turn." She gave him a small smile and had Ghost take them to Orbit.

"So where to now? You pick. I'll make you Fireteam Leader to make it easier," Sven said once they were in their respective ships. She hummed to herself as she struggled to decide.

"Ghost, take us to The Nexus on Venus," she decided. "And we're doing this on Hard Mode." Sven's groan came from her Ghost's speakers.

"Oh come on! At least make it Very Hard!"

"No way! I'm going to fucking die!"

"This is why you have me here! I'm a fucking tank! Don't worry!" He voiced his reasons to her. She rolled her eyes as he mentioned his Bubble again (his _stupid_ Bubble which she was so goddamn grateful for) and that he always puts it down for a reason, and that she should use it. "Seriously, it's more fun when it's a challenge." She gave him a sigh of defeat and had her Ghost change the difficulty to a harder setting.

"Yes!" She could imagine his triumphant fist in the air as she crossed her arms over her chest. She mumbled to herself as they hit the Jump to Venus.

"I swear if I die like fifty times again…" she grumbled, to which Sven brought back the mention of his Bubble Sanctuary.

* * *

Landing on the soft soils of Venus, they promptly summoned their Sparrows and made their way to their Strike destination. There were still a few times where she'd run into a tree stump and do unintentional barrel rolls with her Sparrow, causing her to be chided by Sven for taking so long.

"Just wait your ass, okay? I'm coming over right now," she said as she trudged over to her flipped over sparrow that lay helpless a few meters away. Sven's voice spoke through her Ghost.

"Ugh hurry up you take forever."

"Wait for like three minutes, you big baby," she laughed. As she neared her Sparrow, her Ghost suddenly materialized before her and wafted through the air. "Ghost? What the heck? I didn't call for you." She eyed the little flying light as it circled her Sparrow, occasionally looking out into the distance. She repeated its name again.

"Something isn't right here," it said, eyeing their surroundings. "The Vex are usually posted here. Here, and at those rocks we passed a few seconds ago. That building there should be one of their spawn points." She eyed her Ghost with concern as she carefully flipped her Sparrow over.

"I think you're just over thinking things, Ghost. Someone probably cleared them out before we got here and they probably haven't respawned yet," she said simply. "Ghost, pull of the roster of this map." The roster revealed that there were three other Guardians on Venus with them, one of which was level twenty five. "There. That guy right there. MisterSweezyDeezy probably cleared them out. Now you can stop worrying," she mounted her Sparrow and tested the throttle. "I didn't even know Ghosts can worry," she mumbled. Her Ghost disappeared from her view.

"We can when…" it trailed off. She hit the boost of her Sparrow and quickly joined her friend at the Strike entrance. She noticed promptly that her Ghost was right. Usually, the Vex were at every corner, waiting to be reaped for experience points. But the whole path straight to the Strike was completely barren. It was impossible to assume someone had cleared the whole map of them before they were there, wasn't it?

She reared a final corner at a dilapidated building to find Sven using the dance action at the steps of the building.

"Took you long enough," he joked as he ran up to meet her.

"I was having mechanical difficulties, okay? I don't think my vehicles like me," she rolled her eyes under her helmet. She checked to make sure her pulse rifle and sniper rifle were all loaded and ready before pressing on. "Alright let's get going."

"I've been saying that this whole time," he said as he reloaded his weapon. They quickly darted inside the vegetation infested building before them. The interior was dark and cool, littered with puddles and dusty rubble. Vines crept along walls, windows, and around support columns filtering what little sunlight made its way into the building. Her Ghost suddenly appeared before her face once more, causing her to fall back in surprise.

"Ghost, what the hell?!" She said, irritated as she picked herself up from the floor. Sven, who was just about to barge straight thought to the next area, quickly turned around and jogged back.

"You okay?" He said as he swiped dirt off the side of her shoulder.

"Yeah I'm fine, but this was the second time it did that," she nodded over to her Ghost, who was cautiously floating through the air. "Ghost, what's going on with you today?" They stared at it as it made its way into the next area alone, soon followed by Sven's own ghost.

"Hey, Ghost where are you going?" Sven called out to them. "Let's catch up, come on." They jogged towards the opened double doors that lead into the next area, but was taken aback suddenly by both Ghosts materializing before them once again.

"Stop! Don't come in here," one of them warned.

"I've got a bad feeling about this," the other mumbled as it surveyed the wide room. She shook her head and stepped through the door anyway. "No I said stop!" A cold chill shook her spine as she walked through, the room seemingly got darker and she felt the strange feeling of caution knocking at the back of her head.

"Ghost, you _always_ have a bad feeling," she managed to spit out. "It's just a regular dungeon area." She motioned for Sven to come through as well. "We've been through these darkness things a bunch of times remember?"

"This isn't a regular dungeon area," one of the Ghost's spoke out. "The Darkness isn't supposed to settle in this early into the Strike." Sven shrugged as he walked past them.

"Maybe they updated it last night," he said as he walked into the open room. It had a staircase twisting far up behind them to the second floor, and had various over grown plants spilling their branches over their pots in the middle of the walkway. Papers and debris across the floor were omnipresent. He walked further into the room and peered into an adjacent hallway. He turned around and brought his hands into the air.

"See? Nothing but dust bunnies and us." She gave him a smile from under her helmet and made her way to join him. In that split second, she heard the creaking and jarring gears fill the room. Her smile dropped from her face and eyes widened as a deep grey cloud formed from behind Sven. Three deep red orbs glowed several feet above his head.

"Sven, move!" She brought her pulse rifle up and set her sights directly behind him. He was too slow to react, however, and was sent flying across the room by one quick strike. His body disappeared behind a large desk that spanned across the wall. She opened fire directly at the middle largest orb, that was soon joined by several other red orbs. The cloud receded, and she was left face to face with faces of the Vex and their Minotaur leader.

"Shit!" She quickly took cover behind the nearest support column. "Sven! How're you feeling buddy?" She shouted out to him. She expected a snide remark of how much he hated the Vex, but nothing came. She leaned out from her emptied a clip on two Vex Goblins who were at least three levels higher than her. "Sven I could use some help here!" She took cover behind her column once more. If her armor and recovery stats weren't so low, she would've activated her Bladedancer subclass and clear the room of them all despite a few blows. "Ghost, are we still connected with Sven?!" She called out from under fire.

"He is still in your Fireteam," Ghost responded.

"Then why isn't he responding?" She demanded as she emptied another clip on a Goblin. "The big bad tank get hurt?" She soon noticed that she was the only one taking shots at them. "Don't tell me I actually have to revive him for once!" She heard the creaking metal come dangerously close to her, and made a mad dash for Sven. Narrowly dodging the melee of the Minotaur, she quickly hopped over the top of the desk. A sudden sting hit her right shoulder and soon evolved into stinging pain. She rolled over the desk and fell to the concrete floor, on the same shoulder. Sparks of pain erupted and for the first time she let out a scream. She clutched her crawled under the desk and let the tabletop loom over her.

"What the hell is going on?!" She shouted through ragged breaths. "Ghost! Where are you?" Her Ghost appeared before her along with Sven's.

"He's just over there!" She looked down to the far end of the room where Sven's body lay limp across the floor. Her eyes widened in fear.

"Why isn't he moving?! Why isn't he talking?!" She let out a scream when a sudden rocket exploded before her, making debris and dust fly through the air. "Agh, fuck! Ghost! Take us back to Orbit!"

"I can't take us all to Orbit without him! Otherwise it'll just be us and he'll be left here! You either need to make it over to his body, or provide cover fire for his Ghost to get over to him!"

"What the hell are you talking about?!" The exploding rockets and ricocheting bullets swarmed all over her, and it wasn't long until the Goblins rounded the end of the desk and spotted her. She made a grab for her gun but couldn't hold it up properly because of her shoulder. She missed a few shots off the Goblin's glowing core and shot off its head instead, causing it to run at her in a blind rage. She gathered he strength to push off of the ground and zig zagged her way towards Sven. She managed to hook her hands under his armpits despite her lame shoulder and drag him behind another support column nearby. Low groans came from his helmet, but nothing else.

"Sven! You need to get up now!" She shouted slapping his helmet. "Sven!" Bullets whizzed past them, knocking off concrete chunks from the column. She heard a sudden small blast behind her, and craning her neck, she saw the broken shell of the Ghost lying on the floor with its glowing blue eye flickering.

"Ghost just get us out of here!"

"I'm on it!" It carefully rolled the broken Ghost closer to her and Sven before teleporting them back to her ship. They dropped to the cold metal floor of the cockpit with Sven still in her arms. She couldn't hear his voice anymore. "We're going to make a straight Jump back to the Tower!" She pressed at the switch behind her ear and let her helmet deconstruct from her face before doing the same to Sven. His helmet disappeared, revealing his red Exo eyes that glowed significantly dimmer than before.


	3. Second Strike

"Nearing The Last City, Tower," Ghost announced behind it.

Its Guardian still sat on the cold, metal floor of the cockpit, cradling her partner's heavy head. "Ma'am?" Her head hung over slightly, waiting for Sven's eyes to return to its brilliant red glow. She eyed the crippled Ghost shell next to her knees, the light of its eye flickering softly against the floor. After several minutes of no response, her Ghost continued again.

"The Speaker has called for a gathering of the Guardians back at the Tower. Maybe he'll know what to do..." They neared the Tower, and was dropped off in the central Plaza. Guardians filled the air with loud chatter, some tanned faces filled with worry, a blue face was plastered with fear and darted their eyes back and forth through the crowd. As she sat there unmoving below the steps, slowly she gained the attention of nearby Guardians. A pale faced Warlock ran towards her with bright blonde hair. She stopped suddenly a few feet away from them, taking in the sight of the Exo in her lap as still add a statue. The Warlock's face contorted into that of utter disbelief and fear. She brought her hand to her mouth and drew her eyebrows together. Tears welled at her forest green eyes.

"Oh..." With one word and the sight of the Warlock, a pit opened in the Hunter's stomach. What was going on? Another Warlock, a male Exo this time, ran up beside the female Warlock. He voiced a barely audible curse before turning back to the crowd.

"Oh fuck..." he started off. "Fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK FUCK FUCK!" He clutched at his camouflage green head and dissolved back into the crowd. The Hunter's Ghost reappeared at her side.

"Wait here, I'll go find The Speaker," it said before seemingly flying off in a haste. The Hunter's attention with the crowd accumulated, as the Guardians formed a circle around her. She scanned their faces, each of them showing an array of anger and anguish. She looked down to get friend's face still in her lap.

"Please wake up, Sven..." she murmured down at him.

"Stand aside," a smooth yet firm voice spoke above the crowd. The Guardians parted to reveal the clad white Speaker walking towards them followed by the Hunter's Ghost. He took a knee as he neared them, then picked up the broken Ghost that sat near his feet. "He's still alive..." he breathed. She drew her white eyebrows together.

"What do you mean?" The Speaker held Sven's Ghost in his grasp, rotating it and scanning every detail.

"What is your name," he looked up above her head. "'IzzyWizzyDizzy,' is it? "

"W-well," she was taken aback slightly, suddenly aware of how stupid her RiVi ID sounded coming out of his mouth. It was a name she got a long time ago from her older cousin. It's not even close to her real name, but after all these years, it just stuck. "Just leave it at Zee," she insisted. He gave her a short nod.

"Very well then." He stood up, and kept the Ghost in his hand. The Speaker turned back to the crowd looking down at then from the Plaza. "Guardians, most if not all of you have received a peculiar letter regarding a supposed new patch that was incorporated into the game," he stated. Zee watched his broad back as he leisurely paced back and forth among them. It disturbed her slightly that The Speaker himself knew he was in a video game.

"For those of you who are unaware, it seems that The Darkness is not your only enemy anymore. This patch known as Virulent has the ability to lock players into their servers and experience pain and even death here as they do in the real world. The Guardian behind me holds proof in her arms." All eyes locked onto Sven in her arms, and she reflexively brought him closer to her, assuming a protective aura.

"W-wait, you mean like we feel the death, but we don't die out of game right? Our avatars just get deleted forever or something, right?" An anonymous voice filled with denial spoke from far back in the crowd. The Speaker held an excruciating silence before taking again.

Finally, with a heavy heart, he confessed that he didn't know.

"You are all welcome to come test the theory," he added, using an open hand to direct Guardians to the edge of the balcony. They shifted onto their feet and looked at one another. No one was brave enough to step up. The Speaker's hand fell back down to his side.

"What we do know," he announced as he held up the broken Ghost in his hand. "Is that your Ghost is now your life." He let the words hang into the air, letting it sink in for all of them. "Your Ghost dies, then you die. Simple as that."

"W-wait, but why?" Zee spoke up from behind him. She struggled to get back up on her feet, but refused to leave her best friend's side. She kept her seat on the ground. "Why our Ghosts?"

"Your Ghosts have healing powers, do they not? They revived you, or rather, your Guardian avatar at the beginning of the story after being dead for years. When a Guardian dies on the field, your Ghost keeps you from falling into that dark void of death, keeping you alive long enough for a friend or teammate to rescue you. Without your Ghost, your lives would have ended a lot earlier," the Speaker talked down to her. She shrunk away from him, intimidated by his authority. "It seems the Virulent patch has reprogrammed The Darkness and its minions to target all Ghosts. Once your Ghost is gone, you are gone."

"What about Sven?" Zee blurted out. Her glowing green yellow eyes scanned the mask of The Speaker. "Is he..." she didn't dare continue. He slowly took a knee nearby her again and placed a heavy yet comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Your friend still lives," he reassured her with a low voice. "His Ghost still fights with what little Light is left in it." He placed the flickering Ghost in her arms before standing back up again. "Wait here Guardian. I will address you later." She stared back at him with furrowed brows, not bothering to give a response.

"Guardians, believe me when I say, protecting your Ghost will not be an easy task. They may hide for a majority of your missions, but remember they must decode doors, deal with a encryptions, hack into information. All of which, I'm sure you all know, require a significant amount of time and leaves them quite vulnerable." Another voice, a woman's this time, spoke from the crowd.

"Wait! Don't they have shields? They can still protect themselves!" The Speaker's shoulders drooped slightly, and with a heavy heart, deflected her words.

"Your Ghosts may have shields but they aren't strong enough to protect against a Hallowed Knight's plasma rocket, or the barrage of bullets from several Shanks. Your shields don't last so long to make you invincible; what makes you think it's the same for your Ghost?" He replied with a heavy lilt in his voice. The words steadily brought forth a depression on Zee. The Speaker may be the all knowing and translator of The Traveler, but he isn't one to mince his words. If it is important information the Guardians must know, he will give it to them. Desperate suggestions and questions were thrown at him, only to be rejected left and right.

"Then we'll stay here! We're safe at the Tower, aren't we?" The Speaker shook his head.

"You may be safe from The Darkness but hundreds of Guardians have already died from being forcefully disconnected by outside sources. There is no safe haven here," he said gravely. A human Titan with abnormally lemon blond hair stepped out from the crowd. He stood with his chest puffed, and had a face of determination.

"Then what do we do? Are we just going to stand here and do nothing? Is there any way for us to get out?" The Titan raised his voice in anger. "Some of us actually have families out there!" Voices started into low chatter, then jumbled talking, and raucous shouting.

"The people outside! They'll get us out, right? We just need to wait!"

"How long do you think that will even take? Hours? Days?"

"Years...?"

"No! I have work tomorrow!"

"We all have shit to do outside genius!"

"I don't wanna die...I can't die...!"

"Mama! Daddy! Get me out of here!"

"Shh buddy, it's okay. You're a big boy of twelve now, right? We...We'll figure something out, okay?"

The voices became a jumbled mess around her, all sense of order was beginning to collapse right in front of her eyes.

"There's no point. We should all just jump now and get it over with."

"Don't talk like that! You can't give up without a fight!"

The Hunter pushed Sven and his Ghost off her lap and carefully placed them on the floor. She whispered a quick apology, and told Sven that she would be gone for just a moment. Zee walked up to the Speaker and grabbed at his shoulder and, rather forcefully, spun him around to face her.

"What do I have to do?" She shouted above the crowd. "Tell me what I have to do!" The crowd's noise faded away as she stared into the blank mask of the Speaker, resolute. "You said he wasn't dead," she finally said after the crowd was deathly silent. "Tell me how to bring him back. Tell me how to take him home!" The Speaker held his wrist behind his back and turned away from the Hunter, his head tilted down in deep thought. He slowly paced across the ground, the eyes of countless Guardians on him, waiting in heavy silence.

"Your Ghosts are now your lifeline," he repeated slowly. "Ghosts are made of and live off of the Light from the Traveler." He turned back to Zee standing behind him with her hands clenched at her sides. "The only way to wake your friend is to collect enough Light to repair his Ghost." He strode towards her and knelt beside Sven on the ground. "Your friend is very lucky. Rarely do Ghosts ever survive being shot without their shields up." She kneeled on the other side of Sven, across the Speaker.

"And where can I get enough Light to wake him up?" She asked, struggling to keep her voice steady. The Speaker stared back at her through his mask.

"You know as well as I do where to get Light, Guardian," he said with a low, husky whisper. Her brows knitted together. Despite asking, she already knew the answer far back in her mind. Strikes. Raids. Dungeons. Her heart sunk into the pit of her stomach.

Her low armor and recovery stats made surviving any Strike nearly impossible. Finding appropriate teammates for a Fireteam was hard enough already, but finding teammates willing to go into a Dungeon now will practically be a miracle. She wasn't one to believe in miracles, but she desperately needed one, despite her belief in them.

The Speaker waved a hand above his head, calling two NPC bots towards them. One of the bots neared her with its regular chipper tone, getting her with the traditional "Hello, Guardian." The other bot, colored dark green with a wide red stripe running vertically down its narrow frame and one eye, slipped its stick like robot arms under Sven's back and legs and lifted him off the ground. A switch flipped on inside Zee, her eyes widening in anger. She made two steps towards the bot, but was jerked back by the Speaker.

"What are they taking him?" She growled fiercely. She promptly called after the bot carrying her best friend. "Put him down!"

"Calm your nerves, Guardian," the Speaker spoke with an uncharacteristically soothing voice. "I've ordered them to take your friend to the Tower North and have him and his Ghost quartered there for now." The other bot, fully painted red and purple, cradled Sven's Ghost in its arms and followed its partner to the Tower North. The Speaker faced the observant crowd once more.

"Any Guardians who have fallen in the field of battle but can still be saved may be taken to the Tower North for safe quartering," he explained. "Until further information can be gained, I suggest you all make yourselves comfortable here at the Tower." And with that, the Speaker ended the hearing and gestured an open hand towards the Tower North, silently prompting Zee to go on. Her eyes were filled with uncertainty, and she waited just a moment too long to act.

The coagulated mass of shouting voices filled the air as the crowd grew unruly, unsatisfied with the Speaker's words. He called forth various NPCs—Vanguards, vendors, and space fillers alike—to make a wall between him and the rioting crowd. The NPCs stood with stone expressions, facing the Guardians who spewed venomous words from their lips.

"You fucking useless shit-head! What makes you think I want to stay here another minute?! Get us out of here!"

"They can't even think! They're just coded to tell us we can't do anything about dying in this hell hole of a game!"

"Fuckers just want us all to die!"

"Goddamn puppets for the asshole who started all of this, I bet!" Zee warily glanced at the Speaker by her side, who still stood rigidly with his wrist held at his back.

"You're not going to do anything?" She asked, worried. The Speaker gave her a sigh in response.

"What for," the response came out monotone. "The Tower is a combat locked zone. They can't hurt me, nor can they actually kill me. They can try to throw me off the balcony—any NPC here, really— but we'll just come back as though nothing happened. We can't die... Besides..." he trailed off as he watched the Guardians failing to break through the wall of NPCs. "...We are necessary to your survival," he said low enough just for the Hunter to hear. He clapped a hand at her shoulder once more, before striding off to the Tower North.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmm...still a little slow in the beginning so far, but hopefully by the next chapter things will start to pick up. c:
> 
> And now I should probably get to working on my Essay Draft for college v_v
> 
> Until then
> 
> Cheers, my friends.


	4. Third Strike

Planetarium? Or was it an Observatory? Zee didn't have the right words to describe the Speaker's quarters in the Tower North. It was indeed a large area, a giant contraption Zee tried to understand the first few days of playing, but then dismissed it as redundant. Sven was laying down from the right of the entrance on a rather flimsy cot with stained sheets, his hands relaxed at his sides and his dim eyes staring blank at the high ceiling.

The raging crowd had died down some moments ago; as to where they all went, Zee wasn't sure about. The artificial sun was beginning to set against the horizon, painting the sky a brilliant gold. Birds flew in formation before her, repeating their cycled animation every ten to fifteen minutes. Lights from the city streets below were just small flickering dots that slowly came to life. She wondered for a moment how oblivious the citizens down in those streets were to the danger that settled around them, but then sighed to herself. There probably weren't any actual NPCs down there, let alone any real "lives." She suddenly realized just how claustrophobic the Tower would be with all the Guardians coming to one combat-locked safe zone.

The only people present at the Observatory were her, the Speaker, and Sven. At the entrance stood the three Vanguards, preventing any Guardian who had ill-will against the Speaker. Frustrations ran high, even with the NPCs. On multiple accounts did Zee see Cayde nearly lose his temper, and Zavala use a more than necessary roughness to push back the Guardians who threatened to enter. Ikora stood her ground silently with her head high, more than capable to handle things herself. Things we're quiet for a while, much to Zee's relief, with her ever present Ghost keeping her silent company.

Well, it was silent for a while.

"We can't let you through here, Guardian," Ikora Rey's smooth voice spoke out.

"Yeah, and I'm telling you I need to talk with the Speaker," a rather irritated man's voice retorted. His Ghost started to try to convince him to leave, but was only pushed aside and told off with a curt "shut up Wheatley, I didn't fucking ask you." Zee cautiously peered from the balcony of the Observatory towards the entrance. She spotted a rather tall Warlock with a purple armor coat that swept at his feet. He had a wide, strong jaw, his skin was a dark tan and had a powder blue faux hawk. Around his narrow blue eyes (adding to his goofy appearance) were thick stripes of white that trailed diagonally across his cheeks. Though the current moment was not a laughable one.

"Guardian, I must ask you again to leave the premises," Ikora repeated, her voice as cold as ice.

"And again I'm telling you not a fucking chance. I _need_ to talk to him," he insisted. He tried pushing past the wall of Vanguards, only to be roughly shoved back by Cayde. "Motherfucker! I could care less about that Speaker piece of shit! Unlike everyone else, I'm not trying to put the head of every NPC on a fucking stick!" His booming voice filled the air with multiple strings of curses. Zee's Ghost eyed her, seemingly tired.

"How about we _not_ get involved?" Her Ghost suggested. She let out an exhale and treaded carefully across the bumpy floor in the middle of the Observatory just in time to meet with the Speaker at the base of the stairs. Although his face was covered, Zee can sense a bit of fatigued aura surrounding the Speaker as she approached him.

"What is going on?" The Speaker demanded, albeit tiredly. Commander Zavala gave the Speaker a tight salute with his hand at the corner of his eyebrow.

"It seems this Guardian wants to have a word with you," Zavala explained. The powdered blue Guardian sneered to himself.

"Yeah, try forty thousand words," he remarked. The Speaker took in a breath, his shoulders rising, arching his back in authority. He gestured a hand towards the Vanguards, having them allow the Guardian to enter. The Warlock went straight to business.

"A level fifteen Titan Guardian, Awoken. About yay high," he held a flat hand near the middle of his neck. "His RiVi ID is TheCurlyBush. Is he still here." Zee raised a white eyebrow at the assertive Warlock, but diverted her gaze when his eyes glared at hers.

"I'm not quite sure wh—"

"My fucking brother! Is he still alive, yes or fucking no?!" The Warlock threw his hands in the air.

"You want me to check the systems," The Speaker replied knowingly. "State your Name, Class, and Rank, Guardian." The Warlock rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, well as you can fucking see I got a coat that sweeps across the floors as I walk and a goddamn WARLOCK bond across my left arm so maybe that'll give you a hint as to what the fuck I am. I _was_ on my fucking way to reaching level 21, but then this bullshit happened, and I think if you'd just use your eyes one in a while I'm sure you can easily tell my name is hovering somewhere above my goddamn head," he exclaimed, waving his arm around in the open air above him. The constant use of expletive words almost made Zee visibly cringe.

"'TripPeTruBEDOO?'" Zee read carefully. The Warlock nodded his head in her direction with a patronizing smile.

"Ah yes my dear, thank you for displaying your advanced skills in reading," he said, voice dripping with cheekiness. Zee made a face, turning toward her Ghost slightly.

"What does his name even mean, though?" It questioned a little too loudly.

"It's called fucking jazz, Wheatley. Ever heard of improv?" The Warlock spoke with a little more hostility towards her Ghost. Zee's Ghost faced her again.

"'Wheatley?'" Only thankfully this time the man didn't hear.

"He logged on a few hours ago, said he was going to do a Strike with a couple of friends. Next thing I fucking know, the news channels are reporting about countless deaths all over the country when people were disconnected from the servers or when they were unplugged by family members," he let out a huff. "And don't look at me like I'm a fucking idiot, either. I know damn well logging in here means I'm part of this stupid game of death, but there is no way in hell am I'm letting my baby brother stand in this fucking death trap alone." The Speaker slowly nodded to himself.

"Understandable…" he waved over the Warlock's Ghost to him. "Have you tried searching the systems for his brother?"

"I have, but it's been difficult. Sometimes he's here, and the sometimes his name is wiped from the system. It's strange," it remarked.

"Which is why I'm fucking here. I need a straight answer. Well, two actually. Is my brother still alive, and if he is, where the fuck is he so I can drag his ass back to the Tower," the Warlock demanded. The Speaker dismissed the Ghost.

"The answer of your Ghost is as good as it gets, I'm afraid. My knowledge of the system doesn't reach any further than theirs," the Speaker explained rather calmly. The Warlock stared back at him, not fully registering his words.

"You're...you're fucking joking right?"

"No, I am not." The Warlock let out an exasperated sigh before running a gloved hand through his powder blue hair. In a snap of a second, he brought his fist up hurled it towards the Speaker's face. He was pinned down to the ground in the blink of an eye, with Cayde pressing his elbow against his back. Profanities spewed from his lips, however, they didn't seem to be directed at anyone in the room but himself. Cayde held his Hunter's knife near the Warlock's throat as a warning. Zee struggled to find her voice.

"W-wait!" The three Vanguards and Speaker all looked in her direction, save for the Guardian still pinned against the cold ground, letting out heavy breaths. She hurriedly crouched down near the Warlock's face. "Your brother, do you remember what Strike he was planning to do?" The Warlock squeezed his eyes shut, trying to ignore his sore arm and trying to remember what his brother told him.

"It was…" his ragged breathing steadied out a little, and his attitude seemed to cool down as well. "I think it was the one with all the Vex. You jump down, Minotaurs, then a big fat-ass with a rotating shield just launches purple rockets at you." Surprisingly enough, she knew which one he was talking about.

"The Nexus Mind," she stated. He nodded in agreement. Zee looked up into Cayde's blue eyes, silently asking him to let the Guardian go. Reluctantly, the Vanguard slowly sheathed his knife, and jerked the Warlock back onto his feet. "If we go through the Strike, maybe we can find some kind of clue as to where you brother is," Zee suggested. "It's a long shot, but it's worth a try, don't you think?"

"Yeah, worth a try at getting us fucking killed," he dusted off his arms and pants. "Besides, why the hell do you even want to go? It's safer here."

"I have my reasons," Zee replied quickly, nearly cutting him off. He eyed her carefully with his narrow grey eyes, pursing his lips.

"Trip," he stated with furrowed brows, extending a hand out toward her. Hesitantly, she grasped it, and gave it a light shake, which was returned with his stronger grasp.

"Just call me Zee," she nodded. "Awoken Hunter. Bladedancer."

"Voidwalker," Trip said. "And I'm Canadian, so I'm fuckin' calling you Zed."

* * *

She wanted to bring up the blatant contrast between the Warlock's aggressive attitude and the usual trait of Canadians always being sweet, maple-syrup loving people, but she decided against it. What did she know about Canadians anyway? She'd never even been to Canada in her life.

He scanned through his weapons and armor inventory, upgrading what he could. She would do the same, but she already knew she had nothing to upgrade, considering how she didn't even finish the last Strike with Sven.

A brief image of Sven lying cold and still in the Observatory flashed through her mind.

How about we _not_ mention Sven for the time being.

The Hunter still hadn't given Trip her reason why she wanted to join him on the Strike to find his brother, but it seemed to her that he didn't give a rat's ass about her reason. He was getting help finding his brother. Considering the circumstances, he needed any help he could get, and if a random chick genuinely volunteered for the job, then who was he to argue? Still, the awkward air sifted between them, weighing Zee down. She wasn't one to try and engage in conversations with people she didn't know very well about; no, she mostly kept to herself. After all, she saw it as her way of diminishing her chances at encountering a royal douchenugget gamer (which thankfully, has yet to really happen all these years).

"What's your loadout?" Trip's voice broke her out of her thoughts. It took her a while to focus again, prompting him to repeat his question. With a hasty sigh, he did. "What. Is. Your. Loadout. Your guns. What do you use."

"Oh, uh!" Zee quickly had her Ghost pull up the menu and showed the powdered blue Warlock her set up. It wasn't too bad, he thought with relief. She had a legendary Primary and Heavy, and a Rare Special. Her scout rifle had an acceptable damage stat of two-hundred and nine, while her sniper rifle did an okay one eighty seven with void damage.

"Huh...Sniper and a Hunter, huh?" He said under his breath as he put a thumb under his chin. "Quite the common combination, if you don't mind me saying," he said casually. She shrugged and closed her menu.

"What can I say? I like to say out of trouble and get out of it as fast as I can if it comes to me," she spoke a little softly, still rather wary of the young man.

"And yet you use your Bladedancer subclass?"

"It's a good crowd clearer, okay? I only use it when I absolutely have to," she nibbled at her lip. "Besides, I used to be the designated 'medic' because of how ridiculous my agility stats are. Now I guess I'm out of a job." That cracked a little smile out of the Warlock.

"Let me guess, your armor stats are…?"

"Crap."

"And your recovery is also—"

"Crap," she repeated with a smile forming on her pale blue face.

"Of course it is," he shook his head. He looked around the area of the Tower Plaza, feeling empathy for the various Guardians who have seemingly lost all hope. "If we're gonna do this, I'd rather we have a full fireteam…"

"Yeah but who would want to help us out anyway?" She folded her arms, casting her eyes downwards.

"Well, hopefully we can find a Defender Titan who is just as insane as we are," Trip's eyes kept scanning the roaming Guardians, all seemingly dead on the inside.

* * *

He clutched at his head, resting his forehead against his knees, curled up into a ball shrouded by the shade in the far corner. He absently thought how glad he was no many people were in the Tower Hangar at the moment. He clutched harder at his head. Was it even his head? This face wasn't even his face. How long will it be until he forgets what his own face looks like? His own body? His hands, feet, arms, hair…

This body wasn't his. He had no eyes or ears, some somehow he could still see and hear. Though all color seemed less saturated and all sound became muddled. His fingers trailed over the ridges of his wide Exo head, opening and closing his 'mouth,' trying to form words. He couldn't even smile anymore, could he? You'd need lips for that, don't you? Did he even have lips? He wanted to claw at his 'face.' He wanted to see the red lines his nails left along his cheeks. He wanted to be able to see his white teeth when he smiled. He wanted to still be human.

A piercing scream played on repeat throughout his head. Gunshots. Rocket explosions. The floor rumbling with every step of the Hallowed Knights. Screeches of Wizards all around him. A Cursed Thrall—Death itself, it seemed—slowly hobbling its way towards him, its glowing blue head getting brighter with every step closer. Acolytes hiding behind every corner, and his friends, one by one, dropping to the floor with either a _thud!_ or their body being hurled twelve feet away from after being hit square in the face by a Hallowed Knight's sword. They hadn't even made it to Phogoth, the Ogre boss of the Summoning Pits Strike yet. No, they were wiped out in a matter of minutes as their Ghosts one after the other tried unlocking one of the doors. Before he knew it, he stood alone against countless Hive, his Ward of Dawn providing little help as there were no other distractions to the enemies in the room to let him heal up.

He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the body of one of his friends, laying limp on the ground, no revive Ghost in sight. He couldn't even hear their obnoxious voices anymore. He called out their names, but got no response. Time seemed to slow for him at a snail's pace, and he suddenly noticed _everything_. The sound of his quickened breathing, the numerous amounts of Thralls gunning straight towards him, the Wizard preparing to hurl another volley of attacks, and finally, how the Hallowed Knight loomed over him with its sword raised above its head, preparing to swing.

His Ghost managed to get them out just in time. He sunk to his knees once he materialized within his ship. His Ghost relayed the words of the Speaker regarding the Virulent Patch as they made a Jump back to the tower. He didn't shed a single tear for his friends or for himself. He couldn't.

After all, Exos lack the ability to shed tears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh it seems now we're getting somewhere, yes?
> 
> I realized I never really put in a disclaimer yet have I?
> 
> I do not in any way own Destiny, nor it's characters. I only own my original characters.
> 
> Anyway! Thanks for reading! Hopefully you liked it and hopefully you're comfortable enough to leave a review! Reviews are always welcome and very much appreciated. Or y'know, you can just be a silent reader, supporting me from the shadows. That's perfectly fine too.
> 
> Whichever works for you, my friend.
> 
> Until then, Cheers!


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